


Dream a Little Dream

by MrsHamill



Series: Sandman Crossover Project [11]
Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multiple Crossovers, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:10:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6027192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is fed up. Pairing: Harry/Dream</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream

**Author's Note:**

> From my own overly-fertile imagination.

* * *

His cousin was repeatedly poking him, with his fingers, with a stick, with a piece of furniture, and no matter how many times he said, "Quit it!", the poking didn't stop. 

"I mean it," he warned Dudley. "Quit it now!"

"Make me," Dudley said. The big slob's sagging, fallen pastry face was twisted up in hate.

Snapping, he shoved his cousin away, roughly. "Get off, you sick wanker. Go find some small animal to torture."

Instead of backing off, Dudley's face went mottled red and his hands turned into fists. "I'll show you, you little bastard. You can't shove me around!"

"I just did!" And he did it again, catching Dudley off-balance and making him fall on his arse. He laughed, pleased with the sight of his cousin flat on his back, his mouth gaping and closing like a fish's. "And I'll do it again, you fat prick, if you poke me more!"

Dudley began to blubber, even as his face turned redder in anger. "I'll call my dad on you! You're not allowed to push me like that!"

And just like that, Uncle Vernon was there, complete with that sour, curdled milk smell that was his alone. "What are you on about, then?" He scowled at Harry and then at Dudley.

"He pushed me!" Dudley's voice was thin with outrage.

He had to laugh at the stupid git. "Yeah, and I can do worse!" His wand was suddenly in his hand and he pointed it at Dudley, nearly shouting the words to the transfiguration spell. Just like that, Dudley was changed into a creature that was half-frog, half hateful, stupid, nasty cousin. When Dudley opened his gaping mouth, the only thing that came out was an hysterical croaking noise.

"You little bastard! You're not allowed to do magic out of school!" Uncle Vernon roared.

But he had figured it out -- it was a dream, he was dreaming. He looked down at himself and realized he was several inches shorter and much slighter than he really was. It was as if he were dreaming of his awful life before he came into his own power. "I _am_ in school, you bloody prick! Let's see how you dance to a _cruciatus_ curse, then!"

Uncle Vernon joined his son on the floor, howling in pain as the curse twisted him up from the inside. It was less than he deserved, dream-Vernon or not. He turned to Dudley and, first changing him back to a full-human, launched another _cruciatus_ curse.

"Yo, moron, you wanna give that a stop?"

He turned at the strange voice to behold an equally strange person. It was a scarecrow, with a carved pumpkin head, holding a big rake and smoking a noxious cigar. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Mervyn, and while I don't like those jerks, they're just employees, like me." He puffed the cigar and then knocked the ash off. "So you wanna cut it out, now, before the boss gets involved? You don't wanna have him involved, trust me."

"I couldn't possibly care less what you or your precious boss wants," he said, doubling the _cruciatus_. "I'm dreaming and I'll do anything I damn well please." He aimed his wand at the pumpkin Mervyn and opened his mouth to speak.

"That is enough of that, I think." 

It was a new voice, a strange and compelling voice, and it cut him off in mid-spell. "What?" He looked around wildly. Dudley and Uncle Vernon were slowly transfiguring again, into two creatures which were obviously not human.

"Brute, Glob, you're excused." The two not-relatives hauled themselves to their feet and literally ran away, shooting little, terrified glances over their shoulder. The pumpkin snickered. "That goes for you, too, Mervyn." The pumpkin's exit was far more dignified, with a jaunty wave and a biological hazard puff of smoke. 

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" He looked at the tall man before him. He was very, very pale, had thick white hair on his head, wore strange white robes and had a flashing green stone around his neck.

"You know who I am, Mr. Potter, assuming you were paying proper attention during your mythical and falsely mythical beings course. I came to put a stop to your rampage against two of my employees."

He narrowed his eyes. No, he hadn't been paying quite enough attention in that class, but Hermione had tutored him so he could pass the exam. "You're one of the Endless, then."

"Correct. More precisely, I am the lord of this demesne, and have responsibility for those who inhabit it. I could not allow you to continue to torture two of my creatures in such a way, so I put a stop to it."

"It's _my_ dream, isn't it? What gives you the right to dictate what I do within it?"

The Endless looked bemused. "I control all of dream, Mr. Potter. You are a wizard of some skill and your torture of those two, while amusing in an abstract way, would not be productive. Creating such beings takes a toll upon me, and I believe you have sufficient strength to actually destroy them."

"Then quit giving me dreams of those Durseley wankers! I don't even have to live with them anymore!"

"It is not _my_ psyche directing the tenor of your dreams, Mr. Potter. I only regulate what happens therein." He still looked lofty and amused and it was really very irritating. 

"If you're trying to tell me that my subconscious is calling up these dreams, then..."

"That is exactly what I'm saying." The Endless raised an eyebrow. "You're old enough to understand the impetus behind dreaming, I would think."

Frustrated -- with himself, with the Endless -- he kicked at the floor beneath his feet. "I spent twelve bloody years with them and another five summers, I don't need to go back there, even to torture them."

"Perhaps something within you feels you should. Perhaps that's something you should speak about to someone at Hogwart's. I recommend approaching your headmaster about the subject, especially since he's quite familiar with my family."

"That doesn't do anything for the short term, though, does it?"

"Is there perhaps a happier dream you'd like to have?" The Endless raised his eyebrows and gave him a speculative look. "I rather think there is, actually." Dream motioned to something behind him.

Harry Potter whirled around and gaped at the scene brightening behind him. Draco Malfoy was gagged and bound to a large, comfortable-looking bed. He was naked, his arse was up in the air, and he looked absolutely furious.

"Now that you mention it," Harry murmured with a grin, walking towards the bed.


End file.
